


Trust

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Moping Peter, Unrequited Love, i am bad at tagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 22:25:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They began sleeping together months ago, then he made the mistake of asking for an actual date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, ever. I am sure the characters are awfully ooc (especially Stiles...) and that it's full of spelling and grammar mistakes (English isn't my native language) but I hope at least some of you can enjoy it somewhat anyway.
> 
> Also, of course I do not own any of these characters or settings.
> 
> Happy reading!

”Just so you know, I still don't trust you. This doesn't mean I like you.”

”Then what does it mean?”

”It just means that we are two guys who... need to let off some steam.”

 

Then Stiles had begun removing his clothes and one part of Peter had wanted to stop him, to say it was unwise, say that he was too old for him and many other things. The part of Peter that hadn't been able to take his eyes of Stiles for months, that had longed to touch his perfect pale skin, that part won. They had slept together for the first time and Peter soon forgot Stiles' words of warning. Instead he found himself pouring all of his soul into those secret and often rushed times with Stiles.

 

Not that Peter had really thought he had much of a soul left, but he was sure that for every drop of it he poured into Stiles double of it grew back. He was sure that Stiles made him a better man, not that he hadn't already been improving mind you, but being with Stiles made it easier. Stiles was another motivation besides himself. And honestly, Peter thought it showed. He wasn't sure how the other couldn't have picked up on what was happening between them. Maybe they just couldn't believe that about Peter and maybe Stiles' constant fawning over girls and blabbering about losing his virginity was so well-acted they bought it.

 

But how could they miss the looks? How could they miss all the times when they couldn't get a hold of either Stiles or Peter? Though thinking back on it Peter questioned if maybe it wasn't that the rest of the pack were the good actors that pretended to not know anything for those four months. Four months of bliss. Still, all they had done was sneak away for some sex, Stiles didn't show much interest in staying behind for a long time either. Peter assumed Stiles was insecure about it all, why wouldn't he be? He was only a teenage boy.

* * *

 

 

They laid sprawled in Stiles' bed still sweaty from their play, Stiles was almost dozing off against Peter's chest. No wonder, they had all had an eventful and tiring day.

“Stiles?”

“Hm?”

“What do you say if tomorrow, instead of just this,” Peter gestured vaguely at them lying in bed. “We go out for a dinner and a movie. I'll even be the gentleman and pay.”

Stiles pushed away from Peter's chest and sat up.

“Look, I... I already told you this was just... sex. To let off some steam.”

Peter rose on his elbow and looked over at Stiles who refused to meet his eyes. Peter did not believe what Stiles was saying, he knew it could not be like that.

“That was months ago, Stiles. Are you really saying you've just been using me for sex?”

“Are you saying that you wanted more? _You_ , the cold-blooded psychotic killer?”

Stiles could deny it how much he wanted but he at least had come to know Peter, how else would he find Peter's weak points so easily and say the things that felt like an ice-cold hand squeezing his heart.

“That was long ago. You know that. You know I'm a changed man.”

“No, I don't!” Stiles looked back at Peter for a moment before standing up and putting on his clothes while continuing talking. “I only know you've been behaving good, which of course you would do if you are manipulating and using us!”

 

The coldness spread out and to the pit of Peter's stomach as he sat up in bed. He argued with himself in his head, berating himself for being stupid while also telling himself to not let his temper flare. Another part of himself tried to convince himself that Stiles was just messing around. That even though he sounded more serious than ever he still was just... messing around. Disbelief shone through his voice as he spoke.

“Is that really what you think?”

“Of course! Just think about the thing's you've done. I still don't trust you.”

 

Peter stood up too from the bed and began putting on his clothes. His face had reverted to his usual cold and unfazed look. Any thoughts and feelings neatly put away into a box far back into his mind. If this was the thanks he got for time after time helping Stiles and his friends, for trying to be a goody-two-shoes, then he didn't feel particularly interested in trying anymore. When Peter is fully dressed again he meets Stile's gaze for a moment before the boy looks down at the floor.

“I'm not particularly interested in wasting my time with someone who feels that way about me. It was fun while it lasted.”

Then he turned around and calmly left through the door, as if he didn't feel an aching pain in his chest, as if everything was normal, as if he didn't care.

 

* * *

 

 

He did care of course. That was what the problem had been since the very start. The start being all the way back to being that psychotic killer Stiles still thought he was. Why had he killed all those people really? In the end it all came down to him wanting to reach his goals to be able to avenge his family and make something new. Why would he want that? Because he cared. Oh, he always cared too much about everything, he was too damn sentimental. Sure, he might not always express his caring side the way most other people did, but not everyone could be the same.

 

Caring had ruined things with Stiles too. If he just hadn't cared about Stiles he wouldn't be feeling so ridiculously down and they could still have been sleeping with each other because if Peter hadn't cared he could have been with someone who didn't like him. But he just had to be so emotional. If the pack hadn't noticed Stiles and Peter ogling each other all day long they sure did notice when they ignored each other completely. Peter knew they were just worried, that they cared. But if he got another worried and curious look or question from anyone of them he might just slit their throats (because he cared about what they thought about him. Don't let them see you weak!)

 

Weeks went past. For some reason things didn't get better. Peter caught himself staring at Stiles a she was laughing and goofing around with the others. Letting his eyes wander over his skin in the moonlight while they were all out in the forest at night, remembering how the skin felt beneath his hands. It was silly how being parted from Stiles almost made Peter feel like he grew more and more attached to him again. And that made him feel more and more miserable. Even Derek asked him one time if he was feeling alright, if he was sick. Peter said no, but thought that Derek had no idea how right he was. Because what he was feeling could not be compared to anything else than a sickness.

 

* * *

 

 

Peter had not bothered to shave for a few days. In fact, he had not bothered with much the last few days. Derek had called and demanded his presence, Peter had replied that he wasn't some lapdog and he had other things to do at the moment, thankyouverymuch. Other things included, moping, sleeping, running through the forest for hours before sleeping so he had energy to mope some more. He guessed it was the weather, so dark and gloomy. Peter had decided he did not like autumn. He tried to get himself back into it all by thinking out some plans and plots about how to take over Derek's pack, but he couldn't get himself to think of anything more elaborate and stylish than to just kill him and blackmail the rest to join him.

 

He was dozing in his bed when he woke to the sound of his front door opening.

“Hello?”

Stiles voice. Peter sat up within the blink of an eye. Part of him wanted to clean up everything, look wonderful and dazzle Stiles with his uncaring. Another part wanted to look miserable to show Stiles just what he had done to poor, poor Peter. But Stiles entered the bedroom so Peter had not time to do any of it and just sat there at the edge of the bed staring at Stiles standing by the door.

 

“Okay. Don't say anything. I need to talk. With you. But let me say my things first. Then you can talk. If you want to. I mean, I'm not forcing you.”

Stiles was nervous. The realization made Peter exhale and relax. It was the real Stiles, not the cold and uncaring Stiles that had refused him. This Stiles Peter knew how to handle, this Stiles Peter liked.

“It's not just you. I mean, everybody freakin' tries to kill me or my friends! Even Scott has almost killed me. So you know, throw in someone that has actually killed and it's even more difficult to just... I dunno. Trust. It feels like I'm surrounded by bad guys and friends who turn out to be bad guys. And killers. And monsters.”

Peter nodded slowly before standing up and approaching Stiles.

“Then give me a chance to prove to you that you can trust me. Until then I will understand your doubts.”

Peter put one hand softly upon Stiles' cheek and smiled his most pleasant and charming smile (a bit less charming than usual due to not really shaving or combing his hair lately) and leaned in to place a chaste kiss upon Stiles' forehead.

“Dinner? My treat.”

Stiles smiled in reply.

“Sure.”


End file.
